Journal Entries
by SilverShoes17
Summary: Winnie drank the water when she was 17, this is her journey to find Jesse through journal entries. rated T to be safe but I doubt it'll go that far.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: What do you think?**

Winnie drank the water. This story tells of her time waiting and searching for Jesse through her journals entries. I don't know how many there will be yet, but I'll make sure they are good.

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	2. I drank the water today

**So the intro basically set up the entire story, so here you go.**

**Sorry if there are verb-tense errors or grammatical mess ups.**

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_August 24, 1916_

I drank the water today, one week after I turned seventeen, and one month after I ran away from home again. I figured that it was the easiest option, to leave first, to give me some time to really think things through without having to worry about anything else, to get over the 'would have been' future that my family was dreaming of for me, to figure out how to survive without my family to support me before I made my life-altering decision to live forever.

I sat at the spring for only God knows how long, probably hours, wondering. Would Jesse really come find me? Would it be the same as I remember it? Will we really have a fairytale happily ever after? All of the answers to these questions were uncertain in my mind. All I knew is that I love Jesse so much it hurts. And I've missed him terribly these past two years. I tried to picture his face, it had gotten fuzzy in my memory over time. I cried so many nights over this; I didn't want to forget him, it just...happened. Time took over, blurring my days one into the next, making everyday seem exactly as the one before it. I suppose when that started is when I began forgetting, forgetting his face at least. I never, not even for a _millisecond_, forgot our love.

In one quick second, I scooped up the water in my hand, raised it to my lips, and drank it. It was the clearest water I have ever tasted. It had a sort of a sweet taste to it. Out of some odd impulse, I scooped up more to drink, scared that the small sip wouldn't be enough.

"Now I can be yours, Jesse," I thought out loud. "Forever."

I slowly stood up, my foot breaking a twig and the sound causing me to jump. I didn't _feel_ any different, as I thought I would. Childishly, I decided to test my newfound immortality, just to be sure it had worked. I climbed up the tree, until I was around seven or eight yards up from the ground. Then, I jumped. I landed on the ground, on my back. I simply laid there in shock, I was supposed to be dead. It had worked! I jumped up and spun around in joy.

My mission now was to find my love, my Jesse.

How I was supposed to do that exactly, I had no idea. All I know is that now I would be _able_ to.

First, I would wait in the Tucks' old cottage, where I felt _free._ Surely if he finds me quickly he will be there fairly soon. If he didn't come for me within the year, well, I would think of those plans when the time came.

I made my way back to the cottage; I still knew exactly where it was in the woods. I looked around the place, re-taking in the memory. Unfortunately, even seeing the familiar house did not bring back the exact memory of Jesse. I found the makeshift bed where Jesse slept, and laid down on it, hugging the blanket close. Still no memory. I began to slightly cry.

Would he even remember me? His promise to come get me? Did he even know when my birthday was so he would know when I was seventeen? Tears fell faster down my cheeks.

Surely he would. He loves me. Until the day he dies. He said so himself. He wouldn't forget that after only two years. For someone who will live forever, two years might as well be two weeks. He will definitely remember. Our love was too great for him _not _to remember.

I hope.


	3. Seven days had passed

**Please review! good, bad, whatever! I want your feedback! Possible ideas? Anything! I know a lot of people don't look at the Tuck Everlasting category, so any reviews are greatly appreciated to know someone is reading! lol.**

**Haha, enjoy!**

_September 1, 1916_

Seven days had passed. I knew realistically Jesse wouldn't be back for me this soon. I had only been seventeen for one week. It felt like years since I drank the water though. I am not sure of why. Maybe it was the fact that I was simply here, just waiting that caused the time to drag on, as it did before I ran away. No matter the cause, I was still here waiting.

The house was just as I remembered it. Tuck's boat was still sitting on the land by the lake. I took it out to go fishing once, struggling to remember the skills I had when I was here last. Everything inside the cottage was exactly the same, The placement of the furniture, the kitchen cabinets and dishes were in the exact same place as they were when I left. The Tucks all had to leave as soon as Mae escaped, they couldn't go back for anything. This sort of comforted me in a strange way. It felt like I was back and they would walk in the door at any moment. Unfortunately, everytime this thought took over my mind, I was disappointed as I looked to the door, only to see it stay closed.

I had done everything I had seen them do. I caught fish, eventually, cooked over the fire, did laundry where the lake was shallow. It felt like I had lived here for longer than the mere week I had.

Two days ago, I heard light footsteps on the porch when the sun was just a sliver setting over the lake. I got up from my seat at the kitchen table and rushed to the door, a huge smile on my face.

_My Tucks are here, my Jesse had come back for me, _I thought.

I swung open the door, ready to run out into my Jesse's open arms. My face fell in disappointment as I looked out. It was a deer nibbling a weed from one of the dried out flower pots. I had a very vague memory of Jesse and I seeing a deer in the field one time, but I lost it quickly. I wasn't sure if I actually couldn't remember it or if I subconsciously pushed it out of my mind at the happiness of the memory.

I heard raindrops starting to fall on the lake, making my situation seem very poetic.

I closed the door gently, as to not frighten the creature, sadness overwhelming my entire body and soul. I went over to the worn out sofa, grabbing a blanket off of Jesse's bed on the way over and wrapping it around myself. I began to sob profusely as I laid down, hugging the blanket to myself as tight as I could. I know that I couldn't expect them to come back for me this quickly. I just thought it would be differently now, that _life _would feel different in some way. I thought the love I felt for Jesse would strengthen even before I was reunited with him. That I would feel him with me in spirit, no matter how far away he was from me. That I would feel more connected to him, like I was when I first met him two years ago. That my love for him would magically transport him here to me immediately after I drank the water or spoke his name or thought of him from wherever he was on the globe.

But this clearly was not the case. He wasn't here. It was foolish of me to think we would be reunited the second I became like him.

All I knew is that I was lost, metaphorically speaking, and alone. And only God knows how long my life, no, I couldn't call it a life anymore, my 'here' would be like this. It felt terrible, to refer to my once-life like that. Existing. Simply here. Like a rock on the side of the lake. Who knew how long I would be wandering in isolation like this? Before Jesse would find me, if he found me. I knew he would eventually, I mean, if we are both immortal our paths were bound to cross sometime. I just hoped and prayed with all my might that it would be soon.

My eyes dried out after what I guessed was at least an hour, probably more. I trudged over to Jesse's old bed, exhausted even though I had just woken up 3 hours ago. I laid down on it, pulling the blanket up to my chin around me. I soon fell asleep.

That was the night I had my first nightmare.

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	4. Each day was seldom different

**OK, I need some reviews. Seriously. Enjoy!**

_September 27, 1916_

Each day was seldom different from the last. I had gotten used to everything here. I fixed up the house, it had all but fallen apart having been abandoned for just under two years. I still continued to believe that Jesse would walk through the door at any moment.

Last week, I took the boat out as the sun rose. I found it somewhat hard to control the long oars with my weak arms, but I managed well enough on the small lake. When I was in the middle of the lake, I slid the oars back up so they sat in the boat. The sun was about half risen over the trees, making the lake sparkle yellows and oranges. This is what made today one of the few that were unique. I watched the rays of sun dancing on the rippling water. It was beautiful. It was the most amazing thing I had witnessed in a long time. The sun continued to rise into the sky, causing the glistening to fade the higher it got. It was a nearly cloudless day. I rowed the boat back to its spot on the land. I took off my dress and was left only in my petticoat. I waded into the water, shivering at first at the coldness. When the water got to just below my neck, I dove in. I laid on my back, floating under the sun.

Again, my memory flashed. I remembered Jesse holding me in the water by a cliff. "_We're carrying you," _he had told me. _"The water and me." _That was when I first realized I loved him, the very second that he said those words. That was also the night when I first kissed him, when I said that I would go anywhere with him, and learned about their secret. I remember the look on Miles's face as he talked about his family that left him. When he spoke, I could hear the pain and sorrow in his voice. I wondered if that would be me in the future when I talked about my family. I hoped not, but I had a feeling it would be. I would never be able to see my mother or father again and still be able to keep the secret or not break their hearts by running away again. I just remember that heartbreaking look in Miles's eyes when he spoke about his wife and children. They looked as if he had literally just lost them, the tears welling up, though it had been over half a century since they left him. He spoke of them like they had all recently passed away. It pained me to have this memory. I knew that would be me one day. Unlike Jesse, none of my family members drank from the spring.

I was truly alone, and would be alone until he came back for me.

I swam over the the shallow end of the lake where the boat was, getting out of the water. I just laid out in the sun, letting it dry my wet hair and dress. I closed my eyes.

I heard a horse trotting in the woods from a distance away from the house, quickly getting louder and faster.

"Winnie?" I heard my name being called in rounds. One voice was singled out in my ears. It was louder, more anxious and excited than the others. I jumped up and ran towards it.

"Winnie?" I heard the single voice call above the others again. I instantly recognized it. It was Jesse, _my_ Jesse. He had finally returned to me.

I started running faster, pushing myself as hard as I could to reach my love. I made my way through the woods, jumping over fallen branches and dodging trees. My bare feet stung as I ran but I didn't care. My Jesse had come back for me, nothing could bring me down right now.

"Jesse!" I yelled, desperate to get him as soon as possible, to have him hold me in his arms for the first time in two years. "Jesse!"

"Winnie!" A sense of realization and panic had taken over his voice at the same time.

"Jesse!" I yelled again. I continued running, as fast as I could. I was starting to get tired but I knew I need to get to Jesse. I couldn't slow down, couldn't stop, not until I was reunited with my love. I kept running and running and running. I came to the clearing where the spring was. I saw the man in the yellow suit, holding a gun to Jesse's head. I yelped as I brought my hand to my mouth. I knew that he couldn't die, but it still scared me to see it. Then I saw my parents next to the spring, watching the man. He had his finger on the trigger, ready to pull it at any second. If my parents saw the man shoot Jesse and not kill him, the secret would be exposed. They would take me home at once, accuse the Tucks of some sort of dark magic, as Miles's wife had thought. They would eventually find out that I too was involved in the Tuck's secret. It would break their hearts more than me running away in the first place.

"Please," I begged the man. "Please don't do it." His grip on the gun tightened, trying to intimidate me. "Please."

"Oh, Miss Foster, do understand," the man in the yellow suit said eerily. "He is simply taking your place in my little show, and my first audience are your lovely parents. Now, whether they will be for or against living forever is still uncertain, but why don't you stay and see?" I closed my eyes tightly, turning away and hiding my face by a tree; I couldn't watch, even though Jesse was in no_ real _danger.

I heard the loud _BANG _of the gunshot.

When I opened my eyes, everyone had disappeared, leaving me alone to collapse to my knees in the clearing, sobbing lightly.

**I felt really dark and creepy writing that last part with the man in the yellow suit, so sorry if it freaked you out a bit.**

**In case you didn't figure it out, Winnie was hallucinating. She's basically going sort of insane to a small extent waiting for Jesse. So there you go.**

**Reviews are awesomeness.**


	5. Still, no one

**hey! thanks to my TWO reviewers! haha,hopefully the rest of you reading are just waiting for a good chapter, or whatever, oh well. Thanks to the two people who have reviewed!**

**here's the next entry! review please!**

_December 8, 1916_

Still, no one. Almost 4 months to the day from when I drank the water. It has been getting very cold outside with the coming winter winds. I'm getting even more worried that this would be permanent, my loneliness, my solitude. I still held on to that sliver, as it seemed at this point, of hope that Jesse would walk through the door at any second and take me away with him. Or any of the Tucks for that matter, they always had some sort of plan to meet up every so often, and at least that would end the loneliness.

The hallucinations are becoming more rare, but the nightmares have yet to decrease at all.

Almost every night, it's like the memories of the time I spent with the Tucks are crystal clear.

In the most frequent one, I break into the jail to help Mae escape as Jesse and Miles are outside distracting the guard. My beloved Tucks, my _Jesse _leaving me on the wagon. The last words Jesse said as they drove away. "I will love you, until the day I die," he said to me as Tuck steered the horse away. Then, different from the memory, I start running after the wagon. Jesse has his hand reached out towards me so he can pull me onto the cart when I get close enough. I almost make it several times, just touching his fingertips before my aching legs take away from my speed. The wagon eventually becomes too fast for me to run after. I see the sorrowful expression on Jesse's face as his hand is still reached out, disappearing into the night. In my emotional agony, I drop to my knees, crying. I wake up to find actual tears running down my cheeks, and my clothes slightly damp with sweat.

The other nightmare I had was the day the man in the yellow suit found me with the Tucks. This dream was exactly as it occurred two years ago with only one addition. After Mae killed the man, everyone seemed to just evaporate except Jesse and I. He still has a slightly pained look on his face from being shot, but it quickly faded as he realized what was happening. The world around us, all of our troubles, had simply vanished. I run to him, embracing him tightly. "Now we can be together forever," I say. He moves back slightly, tucking several loose strands of my hair behind my ear. He leans in to kiss me, but just before he does, he vanishes just like the others did. Like in the other dream, I am left alone, crying, both in the dream and in reality.

And each time, I am completely unaware that I am dreaming. And that's what makes it all the more worse.

Every night this hell torments me. I hate how my subconscious can remember almost everything perfectly clear while my waking mind could only recall random bits and pieces. It was sort of strange, almost flipped. When I could control my thoughts during the day, and actually _wanted _to have clear memories of Jesse, I couldn't. But when I was asleep and had no power over my dreams, I could remember everything perfectly. Only, it wasn't always the good memories that I dreamt of, it was usually the worst, with a sick twist at the very end before I woke up that made them unbearable.

**I know it's seriously extremely short, but I couldn't think of a good place to stop if I had kept writing. so review please!**

**:)**


	6. The winter was cold and lonely

**hey people. sorry i haven't updated in a while! but now i am so you can't be mad at me anymore! **

**Thanks to all who have reviewed! YOU GUYS ARE TOTALLY AWESOME!**

**And now, without further adieu...**

_March 9, 1917_

The winter was cold and lonely. Before the lake froze over, I managed to stock up on enough fish to last me a for a while. I had a short phase of not eating, since I technically can't die from starvation, or anything, I figured it was a waste of energy to cook. I was able to handle it for a few days, before my stomach began to curl and wail in hunger. I repeat this process now, fasting for 3 or so days, eating only when my body protests my actions. It takes up less energy, but it also gave me more time to think, which was not a good thing. Because I had only 2 things on my mind nowadays.

Jesse and immortality.

Jesse was an obvious subject of my thoughts. I drank the water for him. I gave up my whole life for him. He is the reason why I am living here, alone, with my own thoughts and more frequently occurring hallucinations. He is the reason I am cut off from human existence. I am waiting for him. Which brings me to the second thought.

How_ long_ would I have to wait? I had all the time in the world, literally, but how much of that time would be spent waiting, living alone to be driven even further mad by my own mind? I knew there was truly no way out of this nightmare. The man in the yellow suit had even shot Jesse right before my eyes and he was able to stand up straight not 5 seconds later. I was trapped here, in life. I could only pray that Jesse would find me soon, so that I wouldn't have such disturbing thoughts any longer. So that I could be his, like I had intended to be from the moment I first realized I loved him. Though my prayers became less frequent as I began to lose faith in Jesse.

Yesterday, the sky was completely cloudless for the first time in months. I took a long walk outside. I went back to the spring and sat by it. I held back tears as I dipped my fingertips in the small pool of water, remembering my all-too-willing, at the time, decision to drink from it. I realized that I should have waited for Jesse first, before immortality even crossed my mind. I should have waited for him to be standing right beside me when I chose to drink the water. I had made a foolish choice, a stupid impulsive foolish choice. I chose to live forever, without even knowing if he person I planned to live forever with would even come for me.

* * *

I began to adamantly regret my decision on Christmas Day. Very appropriate, don't you think? To be in mourning on the day we are supposed to be celebrating God's gift to man. If I were at home, I would have been opening presents and spending time with my parents and going to church. The Nativity story made me think. God sent his son to die for our sins, so that we may be forgiven and go to heaven when we die. I realized then that I would never get to go to heaven. I had committed the ultimate sin, a deal with the Devil, to put it simply. I was going to Hell, even though I might as well have been there already. My existence could be considered similar to waiting in the parlor before entering the fiery prison.

The scary part was, I wasn't even shocked at the morbidity of my thoughts at all that day.

I spent the entire day crying, begging God to let me take back my decision, saying I was sorry and hoping I would be forgiven in my misery. Though it might have been considered early in my immortality, I was already pleading for death. There was only a sliver left in me that believed Jesse would come back to me someday, and even that sliver was decreasing little by little as time passed.

Right now, that hope was so thin, you had to squint to even know it was there.

**Again, I know it's short. But oh well.**

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	7. Another four months have gone by

**Ok, I'm super sorry for the long delay! i've just been really busy, but I am back now!**

_July 18, 1917_

Another four months have gone by. Four months of me, just me. Just me alone here with my own thoughts.

The summer has been painstakingly hot, which only fuels the intensity and length of my hallucinations, which have thankfully been occurring even less frequently by now. My mind has gone numb. Numb to everything. I even sat outside the entire day yesterday, getting a nasty sunburn that leaves me wincing at every move still today. But I don't care. As I said, my mind is numb now. I can't feel anything. Rather, anything besides heartache.

It is almost a year since I drank the water, it didn't seem like time would pass this quickly. Then again, I thought I would be reunited with _him _(I didn't even have the desire or will to think his name, let alone his face anymore. He didn't _deserve _to have that luxury in my memory.) long before the 6 month mark. Clearly, my thoughts have changed since then. _He _is the reason I am stuck here. _He _is the reason I am constantly hurting. _He _is the reason that I made the biggest mistake of my life, sorry, of my _existence. He_ is the reason I've gone bitter. _He _is the reason I don't care anymore. _He _is the reason I beg for death each day.

And I _hate _him for it.

It seems ironic, laughable even, that the man I drank the water for, the man I loved at the time, is now the man I hate most in this world. I wish every kind of pain on him; he had shoved a metaphoric knife through my chest, turning it as he pulling it back out of me to make it hurt more. He left me. He left me here to _exist_. I honestly believed he would never come back for me. Even if he did, I wouldn't take him. He would have to give me one damn good explanation for him not coming back for me, as he said he would almost 3 years ago now. Even then I probably wouldn't forgive him. Not until he begged and pleaded at my feet, for only God knows how long, before I would even _look _at him without the disdain I feel right now.

And I don't feel guilty in the least for having these feelings at all.

He had hurt me, probably unbeknownst to him, but he had still hurt me. He had shot me in the heart, the bullet still lodged in there, unable to be removed and therefore unable to relieve any of my pain whatsoever. He had killed me. He had killed all of my emotions. All of them besides hate, although, he is the only reason I haven't let that emotion slip away. It is the only way I can think about him. The only way I can remember him is to think about my absolute disgust I feel towards him. I have lost all respect for him _and_ his family now. The love I once felt a _very very long _time ago has been vanquished, and has been replaced with the exact opposite emotion. It has been replaced with hate, disdain, loathing, whatever you want to call it. It's interesting, my feelings for him have completely been flipped in the last 11 months since I drank the water. I would give anything to be able to go back home now.

To go back to my parents, their faces were fading in my memory.

To go back to my house, the memory if it disappearing as well.

But I can't. I am stuck here. _Existing. _

His father's words (though, not in his voice) ring throughout my ears almost constantly nowadays, however, I cannot recall the exact words, only the gist of the point he was trying to get across to me. The fact that I shouldn't want to live forever. I realize now that he was right. I have not idea of how someone would actually _want _this. Not to mention the fact that, at one point, _I _wanted, and acted on that feeling, this. I had let his father down.

This made me feel only more guilty and hate him more.

In the back corners of my mind, I know that the only reason I feel such hate for him is because I still want to hold on to his memory.

And If it is through my hate for him, then so be it.

**I know you were probably expecting something WAY longer due to not getting any updates in a while, but I can only get the 'I hate him' point across so much without it seeming too terribly repetitive. **

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	8. I saw him today

**Ok, I know this is seriously a filler chapter, but it's gonna get the next chapters going. please no flame reviews, but constructive criticism is ok i guess. also, if you want, PM me ideas for future chapters!**

_July 25, 1917_

I saw him today, just a few hours ago actually. Granted, it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but it was enough to make my guilt for what I had thought surface.

He was standing by the small lake, looking out to the water. I ran up to him, fully knowing he wasn't truly there.

"Oh my God. I'm so sorry Jesse," I told the mirage. "I feel so bad for the awful things I felt a week ago. I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it. My mind had left me that day. The things that I was thinking, it wasn't me, it was my anger and insanity. I would take those thoughts back in a heartbeat. Just please forgive me," I said, rambling on.

Then, I could have sworn I felt his hand on my face. I hated the fact that I knew for certain this wasn't real. But I saw him. I was reminded of his face again. I wasn't going to ruin it.

"I'm so sorry, Jesse," I began to cry. "I'm so sorry. I love you."

I could have sworn I felt strong arms wrapping around me.

The apparition said nothing as he held me. I felt his hand stroke my hair gently.

He pulled back away from me. His lips began moving, as if he was saying something. My subconscious had remembered everything about him, his face, his eyes, everything, except for his voice. I tried to read his lips unsuccessfully, though I did make out _I love you._

"What is it, Jesse? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to look for you? What?" I asked, my voice spitting out words. Why couldn't I remember his voice? I would trade that for his image anyday. At least with his voice, he could forgive me and say 'I love you' aloud, instead of with just his actions. "What do you want me to do?"

I knew I was delusional at that moment, begging a ghost to talk back to me. Not even a ghost, he wasn't dead. I was begging my imagination to talk back to me.

But I know what I have to do now.

I have to go find my Jesse.

**please review!**


	9. I've been away from the cottage

__**All right, so I know I haven't updated in a really long time. I've been busy/between fandoms/what have you. But I recently reread this story and thought I'd update it. Not sure if I'll keep up with it anymore, I just felt like writing something for it.**

_July 31, 1917_

I've been away from the cottage for five days. I left the day after I saw Jesse by the lake. I spent the night before getting everything in order. I found a canvas bag to put my spare petticoat and the several dresses of Mae's that I had altered to fit me in, along with some of the boy's clothes I found around the cabin.

I had no idea of what I would do for food. I had been "living off the land" during my entire stay here. Fortunately, I found ten dollars in a jar by the lantern; I would buy food when I got to the first town. I would even sell a dress or two if need be.

I ate a big breakfast (knowing I could go at least a couple days without my stomach moaning from hunger) and set out bright and early, the sun only just beginning to make its way over the trees. I knew there was a back way to escape the woods, and a town very close by, so I began in that direction. It all felt very triumphant and liberating, me finally leaving my sanctuary of the cabin after almost a year. But then I remember the reason I was there in the first place.

_Jesse._

The man I was now searching for.

Yesterday, all my fears returned to me as I sat by a river to wash my petticoat.

What if I never find him? What if he comes back to the cottage and I'm not there? Will he think I didn't drink the water? I should have left a note or something. How stupid of me! What if I don't love him, after hating him for so long, when, or if, I see him again? What if he doesn't love me? What will his family think when they find out I drank the water?

I had rarely thought about what the other Tucks would think of my choice.

Tuck and Miles would be disgusted with me, I'm sure. I myself was still disgusted with me, even with my new decision to look for Jesse. Mae might have some sympathy for me, knowing how much I loved Jesse, or simply for knowing how long I had spent alone. Waiting.

* * *

This afternoon, my anger resurfaced after the past six days.

Why was _I _the one searching for _him_? _He's_ the one who said he'd find _me_. Why was _I _feeling obligated to find_ him_? Why should_ I_ care anymore? It's not like_ he's_ appeared to make any effort to find me.

It's because I've been alone in that house for almost a year.

It's because sometimes I go days without speaking. _There's no need to._

It's because with every sound I heard I got hopeful, only to be disappointed.

It's because I want my existence to be worth something, even if that something is simply searching.


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